Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 08 - Ghost in the Mask

by Jonathan Moeller

  Martin sighed and gazed at the ceiling.

  “You think too highly of me, Claudia Aberon,” said Martin. “Too highly by far. But I would not wish to disappoint you.” He turned to Caina. “I assume you have some sort of plan? The Ghosts usually do.”

  Claudia felt some of the tension in her belly loosen. Martin would not turn his back upon them.

  “Yes,” said Caina. “Tonight, we are going to assault Maena’s camp. She is the closest one to retrieving the bloodcrystal. My hope is that by removing her, Anashir and the cultists will turn on each other. Then we can fall upon the victor and keep anyone from taking the crystal.”

  “And the attack upon Calvarium demands retribution,” said Martin. “I assume you want my help?”

  “If you are willing to grant it,” said Caina.

  “I am,” said Martin. “If Lady Maena is responsible for the deaths in Calvarium, then she must be brought to account. We shall give her once chance to surrender and face the magistrate. If she refuses, we shall regard her as an outlaw and fugitive from justice…and act accordingly.”

  “Thank you,” said Caina.

  “You have a way to counter her sorcery, I trust?” said Martin. “If she can command so many Dust Shades, she is clearly a powerful sorceress. I have a magus assigned to Calvarium, a man named Oberon Ryther, but he is utterly useless. The man barricaded himself in his room when the alarm went out.”

  “I have some sorcery,” said Claudia, “though I am no match for Maena. I am willing to help fight.”

  She hated fighting, hated seeing men suffer and die in combat. Caina and Corvalis were hard and strong, capable of dealing with the stress. Claudia just wanted to find a corner and cry after a fight. Or perhaps Caina and Corvalis did, too, and were just better at hiding it.

  “And we have other aid,” said Caina. “Maena is a disciple of a more powerful sorceress called the Moroaica, and the Moroaica has many enemies. They will help counter her sorcery.”

  “So be it,” said Martin. “I will summon the town’s militia, and we will gather at the northern gate by sundown.”

  Caina nodded. “I will have our allies join us there.”

  “Very good,” said Martin. He looked at Claudia. “I hope, my lady, that your confidence in me is well-founded…as if your confidence in the Ghosts.”

  He walked out of the ruined door, pulling his helmet back on. A barked order later, the column of militiamen marched off, leaving Corvalis and Komnene and the others alone in the street.

  Claudia licked her lips and looked at Caina. She expected the other woman to fly into a rage, but Caina only stared out the door, her expression distant. It was odd, Claudia mused. Caina was at least three or four years younger, but Claudia was terrified of her.

  She suspected that Caina had led a far harder life than hers. At least until recently, anyway.

  “If you’re going to kill me,” said Claudia, “please don’t let Corvalis know about it.”

  “I think he likes you,” said Caina.

  Of everything she might have said, Claudia had not expected that.

  “What?” she said at last.

  “He likes you,” said Caina. “Else he wouldn’t have listened to you. All that talk about being a good man, about duty and responsibility and the Empire…if I had said it, he would have ignored me. But he likes you, and coming from you, he’s more susceptible to such persuasion.”

  Claudia’s fear melted into anger. “Susceptible?” She stepped forward, pointing. “That wasn’t just talk! It was the truth! He is a good man, and he doesn’t deserve to have this thrust upon him. I know you might be able to lie at will, but I can’t! Martin Dorius is an honorable man, and I meant every word!”

  She saw Corvalis staring at her in alarm, and part of Claudia’s mind screamed that she had gone too far, that she had finally annoyed Caina too much.

  But Caina only grinned.

  “Exactly,” said Caina. “That’s why he listened to you. No lie can ever be as effective as the truth.”

  Claudia blinked in surprise. “Then…you’re not angry that I told him who you really are?”

  “I am,” said Caina, “but how I feel is less important than the results we obtain. Right now we need Martin’s help against Maena. And if we live through this mess, he may be a helpful ally to the Ghosts in the future. Some lords openly support our work, and others offer aid in secret.”

  “Oh,” said Claudia, relieved. She had expected rage from the younger woman.

  “Claudia,” said Caina. “I know you’ve made errors in judgment in the past. But don’t let it paralyze you. I’ve made mistakes, grievous ones. Maybe someday I’ll tell you how I lost Nicolai to the Istarish slavers for two days. Or about Alastair Corus.”

  “Who?” said Claudia.

  “I’ve made mistakes, as bad as what happened in Catekharon,” said Caina. “But I realized what I did wrong and moved on. I think it’s time you did, too. Trusting Martin like that…I think it was the right decision.”

  “Thank you,” said Claudia. “Thank you.” She sighed. “Though if we’re all dead tomorrow, I suppose it will have been the wrong decision.”

  “If we are all dead tomorrow,” said Caina, “then it will have been despite our best efforts. Come.”

  She climbed over the ruined door, and Claudia followed her.

  ###

  An hour later Caina returned alone to her rooms at the Inn of the Seven Skulls.

  Muravin had gone to gather her fake Magisterial Guards and prepare them for the assault. Corvalis had gone with Harkus and Talekhris to prepare the men of the Order for the coming fight. Komnene and Claudia had gone with Lord Martin as he gathered the militia. Claudia would defend Martin from any sorcerous assaults, if Maena tried another preemptive attack, while Komnene prepared for casualties.

  Caina hoped there would not be too many, that they could deal quickly with Maena.

  But she suspected otherwise.

  A shadow ran the length of the sitting room. Alexandra stood by the window, her hands clutched before her chest, the sun throwing a long shadow behind her. She turned as Caina approached, her blue eyes widening in surprise.

  “Oh, mistress, you are safe!” she said. “All those terrible shadows filled the streets…there was so much screaming. I feared you would be killed.” She hesitated. “Your captain…is he…”

  “No, he’s safe,” said Caina. “He is attending to a task I gave him.”

  “Good, good,” said Alexandra. “It would be dreadful if he were killed.”

  “It would,” said Caina. “I am glad you are unscathed.”

  Alexandra shrugged. “It is the grace of the gods, I think. I was walking to the inn when the shadows appeared. Anyone they touched became a withered corpse at once. And yet the creatures ignored people unless they got in the way. I hid in an alley until they passed, and then I ran for the inn as fast as I could.” She hesitated. “Did I do wrong, mistress?”

  “No, you did well,” said Caina. She was glad the girl was safe. Too many people had died already. “The shadows didn’t care about the people of Calvarium. They were coming for me.”

  Alexandra’s blue eyes widened. “For you, mistress? But why?”

  “Because,” said Caina. “Lady Maena Tulvius is going to steal a weapon of great sorcery from the ruins of Caer Magia, and I intend to stop her.”

  “But she will kill you,” said Alexandra.

  “She will try,” said Caina.

  Yet she did not feel as confident as she sounded. Attacking Maena’s camp was the best plan available, but it was still a grave risk. If they killed Maena, Caina suspected Anashir and Rhames and the cultists would come to blows. Of course, Maena might prove capable of withstanding the assault. Or Anashir and Rhames might decide to fall upon Maena while she was fighting and wipe out both her and the Ghosts in one fell swoop.

  It was a risk, but Caina could think of no better plan. They had to act.

  If they did not, Maena would take t
he Ascendant Bloodcrystal for herself, or she would deliver it to the Moroaica.

  Caina was not sure which would be worse.

  “Mistress,” said Alexandra, her eyes frightened. “Perhaps you should flee.”

  “Pardon?” said Caina, shaking out of her dark thoughts.

  “Your enemies are so powerful,” said Alexandra, “and they must hate you so much, if they would conjure those…those shadow-things to kill you. Perhaps you should return and come back with aid.”

  “Why?” said Caina.

  “Because they will kill you,” said Alexandra, “and your captain.”

  “The captain and I have our duties,” said Caina, “and we do as we must.” She thought for a moment. “If you know anything about Lady Maena and the occultist Anashir, now would be a good time to tell me.”

  “Only that they are very dangerous,” said Alexandra, “and that they command terrible and unnatural powers.”

  “I know,” said Caina. “Thank you for all your help. Go to the magistrates’ hall, Alexandra, and stay there tonight. It will be the safest place in the town. Do not come out again until tomorrow. There will be fighting tonight.”

  Alexandra nodded. “Thank you, mistress. You were…you were much kinder than I thought a magus would be. Good luck.”

  She turned and left the room.

  Caina watched her go. If the girl was a spy, Caina had just given away a great deal of information. Yet Caina doubted she was a spy. And anyone with eyes and a brain could see that the militia of Calvarium was mustering for an attack.

  An attack that Caina needed to join.

  For good or for ill, the question of the Ascendant Bloodcrystal would be resolved tonight.

  Caina went to her bedroom to prepare.

  Chapter 21 - Fists of Stone

  Caina donned the garb of a nightfighter of the Ghosts.

  Black trousers, black boots, and a black jacket lined with steel plates to deflect the blades of knives. Black gloves covered her hands, and a leather belt holding throwing knives, lockpicks, a coil of rope with a collapsible grapnel, and other useful tools, went around her hips. Concealed sheaths in her boots held daggers, and throwing knives went up her sleeves. A black mask covered her entire head, save her eyes, and her shadow-cloak went around her shoulders, wrapping her in darkness.

  Her curved ghostsilver dagger went in a sheath at her belt.

  And around her neck, beneath the jacket, she hung a leather cord. A golden signet ring, old and worn, dangled from the cord. It had belonged to her father, until Maglarion and her mother had killed him and she became the last living member of House Amalas.

  It seemed right that she carried it, since she had become a Ghost in his memory.

  When she was ready, Caina slipped from the Inn of Seven Skulls and made her way through the darkening streets to the northern gate.

  ###

  Claudia’s nervousness washed against Kylon’s arcane senses.

  It made for an interesting contrast to the aura of raw power surrounding Talekhris.

  Kylon stood to one side of Lord Martin’s horse, Claudia and Talekhris waiting nearby. Behind them two hundred militiamen assembled, armed with spear and shield, short swords waiting in their belts. The forty men from the Order of the Venatorii stood nearby, their crossbows ready.

  “So you are truly a Kyracian stormdancer?” said Martin, giving him a wary look.

  “Yes, Lord Governor,” said Kylon. He had not revealed his true identity. Martin had agreed to fight alongside him, but if he knew that the famed Kylon Shipbreaker had come to Calvarium, he would feel honor-bound to capture or kill him. “I suspect someone within Maena’s camp dealt a poisoned wound to my betrothed. The only hope I have of an antidote is within her camp.”

  It wasn’t quite the truth, but it would serve. Lying did indeed grow easier with practice.

  “And you,” said Martin, turning towards Talekhris, “you are supposed to be a sorcerer of some kind?”

  Talekhris smiled, leaning on his cane. Kylon sensed the power of the rod hidden within it. “I know a spell or two, my lord. I hope to be of use in the fighting if Maena brings her power to bear.”

  “As do I,” said Claudia. Her terror fluttered against Kylon’s senses, but the former sister of the Magisterium held it at bay. It seemed she had learned a few things since the fighting in Catekharon. “Master Talekhris is a potent sorcerer, and Lord Milartes of House Aegios is a capable warrior. I have seen him in battle.”

  Martin grunted. “If you say so. The plan is simple enough.”

  “Plans always are,” said Kylon, “until they meet the enemy.”

  Lord Martin’s men and the Order would launch a frontal assault upon Maena’s camp. Claudia and Talekhris would stand ready to dispel any sorcerous attacks from Maena, while Kylon assisted the militiamen and the Order against the mercenaries.

  And while they held mercenaries’ attention, Caina and Corvalis would slip into the camp and kill Maena.

  “Do you think it will work, my lord?” said Claudia, looking at Martin. Kylon sensed a flare of emotion from the young woman. She was rather fond of the Lord Governor, and it appeared he was of her.

  “Perhaps,” said Martin. “The strategy is sound. I suppose it depends on how skilled your Ghost nightfighters are at killing sorcerers.”

  “Oh, they are,” said Claudia. “My lord, I have never met anyone as terrifying as the Ghost nightfighter we are sending against Maena.” Her emotions changed to fear mingled with respect.

  “Aye,” said Kylon. Martin did not know that Caina was herself a nightfighter, and Kylon suspected that Caina preferred to keep it that way. “If anyone can kill Maena unawares, this nightfighter can do it.”

  “Well,” said Martin, his expression hardening behind his plumed helm. “Let us put that to the test, shall we?”

  He gave the order, and the militiamen marched out.

  ###

  Caina crouched on the slop of the Henge, Corvalis at her side. Their shadow-cloaks blurred with the gloom around them, and if Caina had not known exactly where to look, she would not have seen Corvalis.

  She had decided to have Muravin and the rest of the fake Magisterial Guards keep watch over the gates of Calvarium. If Maena tried to flee to the town, Muravin and the others would be waiting for her.

  And if Maena prevailed, someone had to carry word to Halfdan.

  A few hundred yards away, the camp of Lady Maena Tulvius blazed with firelight. Her men sat eating and drinking around bonfires. Clearly, they knew nothing of the chaos in Calvarium, and Maena had not bothered to warn them of the attack. Had Maena fled already? Or was this an elaborate trap?

  Or perhaps Maena was simply not that clever.

  The mercenaries might have been idle, but there was no way to disguise the presence of three hundred men marching towards the camp. As Lord Martin’s militiamen and the men of the Order approached, an alarm went through the mercenaries. Caina saw sergeants shouting orders, saw the mercenaries scramble for their weapons.

  Soon the men drew themselves up in battle array on the other side of the trench, guarding the plank bridge.

  A figure in green hurried through the camp, and glimpsed Maena Tulvius heading towards the bridge.

  Martin’s men formed a line on the other side of the trench, and the Venatorii loaded their crossbows.

  “Let’s go,” she murmured to Corvalis, and they made their way through the tall grasses.

  ###

  Claudia took a deep breath, ready to cast a defensive spell.

  “Hear me!” shouted Martin, standing up in his stirrups, longsword in hand. He pointed the blade at the waiting mercenaries. “I am Martin of House Tulvius, Lord Governor of the Imperial province of Caeria Ulterior! In the name of the Emperor and by the laws of the Empire, I accuse Maena of House Tulvius of murder, insurrection, and necromancy. I hereby command Lady Maena to surrender herself to my custody, to stand trial before the magistrates in the Imperial capital!”

&nbs
p; An uneasy murmur went through the mercenaries.

  “I command Lady Maena to present herself!” said Martin. “I offer one chance. Lady Maena committed her crimes through her own unlawful sorcery. If any of her followers lay down their arms and depart Calvarium at once, I will permit them to go in peace. But if they stand by her, I will show no mercy.”

  The murmurs grew louder, the sergeants shouting at their men to stand fast, and then a thunderclap rang out.

  The mercenaries parted, and Maena Tulvius strode through them.

  “What is this?” she said, her voice booming over the assembled men like thunder. Claudia recognized the spell Maena used to enhance her voice. “I trust you have a reason for this harassment, Lord Governor?”

  “A dozen witnesses,” said Martin, “saw you commanding the Dust Shades that attacked Calvarium earlier today. Necromancy is forbidden under Imperial law, to say nothing of murder and insurrection. Surrender yourself to face justice.”

  Maena laughed. “I don’t know what you are talking about, my lord.” Her eyes fell on Claudia, and narrowed with sudden rage. Claudia shivered. What had she done to make Maena hate her so? “Superstitious peasant vermin will believe anything. No doubt they drank too much and decided to blame their brawling upon mysterious shadows.”

  “One chance, Maena,” said Martin. “Surrender now, or by my authority as Lord Governor of Caeria Ulterior, I shall…”

  “Shut up!” said Maena. “Gods, shut up! I am sick to death of this stupid game.” Her green eyes glittered, her hands hooked into claws. “But the game is over. The Lord Governor of Caeria Ulterior! Bah! Your Empire is doomed, Martin Dorius. It is going to burn, and you are going to burn with it when the Moroaica finishes her great work! Better that you had died in the Argamaz Desert with the men you led to their deaths! It will spare you from the suffering that is to come.”